Monday, 11 March 2013

Break a Leg.

Tonight the show formerly titled "Ring Piece" opens at the Battersea Arts Centre. I'm just about to head in and rehearse it now - typing this surrounded by boxes,
but not as many boxes as I need. I've been very much in Limbo over this past fortnight: between homes, between jobs, between drafts, and hanging around Lanna house-sitting Schrodinger's cat in a beautiful flat in Mudchute that overlooks the Thames and little else. This handsomely-paid, two-and-a-half-week run of Ring has been the one fixed point in all of that. And now it's here, whatever it is.

Perhaps it's best described as a social experiment. That at least avoids spoilers. David and Glen seem happy with how it's gone so far, at least. Here's the former making some of it in a sandpit in Victoria Park which we broke into a few evenings back, lit by his own device. David's turf. He told me the only way in was down a slide. This turned out to be a lie. The slide seemed massive. You can just make it out on the left.